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Authors: Savanna Fox
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suits. He also hated having the press shove microphones in his face. Why couldn’t a guy just play hockey?
“Okay, then,” Georgia said. “Let’s talk about the concept of uniforms.” She typed the word and it appeared on the wall screen.
“Uniforms?” he asked.
She glanced at him, then away again. No, even if she wanted to forget yesterday, he could see she wasn’t succeeding. “You wear one on the ice, for the game,” she said, “and I assume it’s mostly about safety, right?”
He nodded.
“You wear another—a suit—going to and from games. That’s about professional image.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He’d never thought of those suits as a uniform, but she was right.
“You’ll have to wear VitalSport clothes, not just for the photo shoots but when you’re out in public.”
“My jeans and jerseys are comfortable.” Did he sound like he was whining? He really wished they hadn’t had sex. Especially bad sex. It made things way too awkward.
Viv jumped in. “Woody, here’s my take on it. You’re wealthy and could dress however you want, yes?”
Not these days. It had been true before his agent lost all Woody’s money and got him in debt with the tax people—but even then Woody’d never been into acquiring stuff. Yeah, he’d bought himself an apartment, a sports car, and a big TV, but what else did a guy need? Pretty much the only money he spent—and yeah, it was a small fortune—was on his mom. “I guess,” he hedged.
“But you don’t care about clothes,” Viv said. “You dress for comfort, you don’t like shopping, and you’ll wear clothes until they’re falling apart rather than buy new ones.”
Hey, this woman knew him.
“You buy off the rack, making choices as quickly as possible.”
“Yeah.”
“I saw that in the video clips. Your suit jackets don’t fit right.”
“They don’t?”
“Don’t you find they pull across the shoulders?”
“Yeah.” He’d figured that was what suits did, and that all ties felt like nooses.
“Woody,” Georgia broke in, “you’re going to have to dress differently.”
He grimaced. He had no issue with taking direction from a woman, but he’d have been way happier about it if he’d given hergreat sex rather than humiliating himself. He’d have been way happier if just the sight of her didn’t make him want to do it again, slow and thorough and hot and sweet this time.
Viv crossed one leg over the other. “Clothing should drape and hug and caress. Like a balmy breeze, a tropical ocean against bare skin, the touch of a lover’s hand.”
Girly words, but the way her very adult voice lingered over them made his flesh tingle. This was not the way to get his mind off sex.
Georgia ran a hand inside the paired collars of her shirt and jacket. Were they too tight, or was she imagining the touch of a lover’s hand? His hand? When he’d stroked her pussy and made her come, he’d done it right. It was only later that he’d lost control and been a selfish bastard.
Viv went on. “Woody, you’ll see that being stylish doesn’t have to mean being uncomfortable. I promise.” She gave him a dazzling smile.
That, plus her reassurance, made him smile back and say, “Thanks, sunshine. I’m counting on you.” He didn’t get any sense she was flirting with him, just that she was all woman and didn’t mind showing it in the workplace. The blonde’s approach was sure different from Georgia’s, passionate though the redhead was once she let her hair down.
Viv’s foot, in a bright green shoe with a mile-high heel, swung in circles. With a glint in her eyes, she said, “Of course you’ll wear VitalSport underwear, too.”
Jesus. “No one’s seeing my gonch,” he protested.
“Ah, so you’re not dating anyone these days?” the blonde asked.
Since when was his dating life their business?
Eight
Georgia, typing notes at the head of the table, froze at Viv’s words. Why had that question never occurred to her? She’d
“Okay, then,” Georgia said. “Let’s talk about the concept of uniforms.” She typed the word and it appeared on the wall screen.
“Uniforms?” he asked.
She glanced at him, then away again. No, even if she wanted to forget yesterday, he could see she wasn’t succeeding. “You wear one on the ice, for the game,” she said, “and I assume it’s mostly about safety, right?”
He nodded.
“You wear another—a suit—going to and from games. That’s about professional image.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He’d never thought of those suits as a uniform, but she was right.
“You’ll have to wear VitalSport clothes, not just for the photo shoots but when you’re out in public.”
“My jeans and jerseys are comfortable.” Did he sound like he was whining? He really wished they hadn’t had sex. Especially bad sex. It made things way too awkward.
Viv jumped in. “Woody, here’s my take on it. You’re wealthy and could dress however you want, yes?”
Not these days. It had been true before his agent lost all Woody’s money and got him in debt with the tax people—but even then Woody’d never been into acquiring stuff. Yeah, he’d bought himself an apartment, a sports car, and a big TV, but what else did a guy need? Pretty much the only money he spent—and yeah, it was a small fortune—was on his mom. “I guess,” he hedged.
“But you don’t care about clothes,” Viv said. “You dress for comfort, you don’t like shopping, and you’ll wear clothes until they’re falling apart rather than buy new ones.”
Hey, this woman knew him.
“You buy off the rack, making choices as quickly as possible.”
“Yeah.”
“I saw that in the video clips. Your suit jackets don’t fit right.”
“They don’t?”
“Don’t you find they pull across the shoulders?”
“Yeah.” He’d figured that was what suits did, and that all ties felt like nooses.
“Woody,” Georgia broke in, “you’re going to have to dress differently.”
He grimaced. He had no issue with taking direction from a woman, but he’d have been way happier about it if he’d given hergreat sex rather than humiliating himself. He’d have been way happier if just the sight of her didn’t make him want to do it again, slow and thorough and hot and sweet this time.
Viv crossed one leg over the other. “Clothing should drape and hug and caress. Like a balmy breeze, a tropical ocean against bare skin, the touch of a lover’s hand.”
Girly words, but the way her very adult voice lingered over them made his flesh tingle. This was not the way to get his mind off sex.
Georgia ran a hand inside the paired collars of her shirt and jacket. Were they too tight, or was she imagining the touch of a lover’s hand? His hand? When he’d stroked her pussy and made her come, he’d done it right. It was only later that he’d lost control and been a selfish bastard.
Viv went on. “Woody, you’ll see that being stylish doesn’t have to mean being uncomfortable. I promise.” She gave him a dazzling smile.
That, plus her reassurance, made him smile back and say, “Thanks, sunshine. I’m counting on you.” He didn’t get any sense she was flirting with him, just that she was all woman and didn’t mind showing it in the workplace. The blonde’s approach was sure different from Georgia’s, passionate though the redhead was once she let her hair down.
Viv’s foot, in a bright green shoe with a mile-high heel, swung in circles. With a glint in her eyes, she said, “Of course you’ll wear VitalSport underwear, too.”
Jesus. “No one’s seeing my gonch,” he protested.
“Ah, so you’re not dating anyone these days?” the blonde asked.
Since when was his dating life their business?
Eight
Georgia, typing notes at the head of the table, froze at Viv’s words. Why had that question never occurred to her? She’d
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