Boys and Toys. Cara Lockwood

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      “Is this lube latex-safe?” one guest asked, holding up a bright yellow neon bottle of banana-flavored oil.

      “Uh...” Liv was still off balance as Porter grinned at her. She glanced down at his tightly fitted T-shirt and wondered why she never noticed Porter was so ripped. She felt instantly on guard. He reminded her of her only one-night stand: Kincaid. Handsome, fit and only interested in new notches in his bedpost. “Liv?” The guest’s voice snapped her back to hostess mode.

      “Yes, a hundred percent latex safe,” Liv said, thankful to have somewhere else to focus her attention. Porter or no Porter, she had a show to do.

      “What about condoms? Got any flavored condoms?” one guy asked.

      “Like you need any condoms, dude. When was the last time you got any?” another teased.

      With great reluctance, Liv brought out the boxes of condoms, which came in all shapes and sizes, some even ribbed for her pleasure, and others that glowed in the dark. Porter leaned against the arm of the couch, watching her intently.

      As she explained the specialties of each, she debated skipping the next part, which involved her rolling out an extra-large condom complete with tickler on a banana for effect. She tried to ignore Porter’s intent stare as she went to work on it. Her neck burned the entire time, even as the guys hooted and cheered.

      Porter Benjamin took steady sips of his beer, his face impossible to read. Did he enjoy the show? Did he disapprove? Liv couldn’t tell.

      The timer on Liv’s phone dinged, announcing the end of the show. Paul stood and stretched.

      “Okay, fellas, Liv’s time is up with us, so make your last purchases,” he announced.

      The guys at the party bought more merchandise, pushing her totals even higher. She was running someone’s credit card through her iPhone swipe when she felt Porter wander closer to the table. He picked up some cherry-flavored warming lube and smelled the bottle.

      She finished up her last sale, and then hurriedly began packing her things, her mind running a mile a minute: Do I tell Porter not to tell my dad? Would that just make it worse?

      Porter hung around, slowly sipping a beer, watching her as she packed her things. She certainly wasn’t going to press him for a sale. She could imagine the conversation now. Hey, Mr. Tanaka, guess what I did this weekend? I bought a leopard-print gold glass dildo from your daughter!

      Liv’s mind whirled with all the excuses she could make. To Porter. To her dad. To everyone.

      Porter picked up a box of edible cherry thongs she was about to put in her bag. “How much?” he asked in his deep, gravelly voice, the voice she imagined made other lawyers in the conference room instantly pee their pants and want to settle. She glanced at his deep brown eyes, and then anxiously down at the edible underwear. “Uh...those? Uh...”

      She suddenly had an image of Porter with a gorgeous blonde somewhere, nibbling off a red thong. The image made her abruptly lose her train of thought, as she stumbled about trying to remember how much they cost. She’d never had trouble remembering inventory before. “Uh...I think twenty-five. No, wait. Twenty-nine.”

      Porter let his lips curl up in a lazy smile. “I mean for a party.”

      “Are you getting married, too?” Liv blinked fast. Now she had an image of him with a gorgeous lingerie model type on their honeymoon, of him nibbling on a frilly white lace garter. Unexpectedly, she felt a surge of jealousy.

      “Me?” Porter raised his eyebrows in surprise. “No. I’m single.”

      “Oh.” Liv sounded a little too relieved. Mentally, she kicked herself. Porter’s smile grew bigger. “I mean, uh, well...how many guests?”

      “Just one.”

      Liv swallowed hard as she reached for the cherry thongs and zipped her bag. “One?” she squeaked. The look on Porter’s face told her this was no joke, either. He was dead serious.

      “Right.” He nodded, eyes set on hers. “How much for a party just for me?”

       Chapter Two

      Liv stared into Porter’s brown eyes, craning her neck to meet them, not failing to notice his broad, muscled shoulders nearly bursting the seams of his cotton T-shirt.

      “You want a private party?” Liv’s mouth went dry. She didn’t do private parties. She’d never even seriously considered doing one—until this moment. Why wasn’t she saying no? Where was her knee-jerk, hell no, perv, response? Because Porter was no creep, that’s why. Because showing Porter her wares, all of them, might be exactly what she wanted to do next Friday night.

      Then she had a flash of trying to explain to her dad how she decided to date his junior partner, and how she introduced him to the rabbit on their first date. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest? Would that go over well at Peterson and Tanaka?”

      Porter took a casual swig of his beer and half shrugged his shoulder. “I’m not afraid of your father. Are you?”

      Liv shifted uncomfortably in her stilettos. Laughter bellowed from the kitchen, where the other partygoers had gathered for a round of shots. “You’re not going to tell him...uh...about...” Her eyes darted to her black duffel bag.

      “I take it he doesn’t know?”

      Liv blushed crimson. “No. He doesn’t. And I’d rather...keep it that way.”

      Paul strode out of the kitchen then, holding a folded check and her dark gray raincoat, which he handed to Liv. “Thanks for doing this,” he said. “And I called the doorman for a cab. He said five minutes.”

      “Thanks, Paul,” she said as she shrugged into her belted coat. She cinched it tightly. Paul handed her a folded $100 bill—her tip. “Wow, Paul, thank you.” Porter watched her as she took the bill and added it to the rest.

      “You’re more than welcome, Liv. Need help with your bag?”

      “I got it, Paul. I’ll walk Olivia down.” Porter grabbed the bag before Liv could answer. She could roll it just fine on her own, but she had to admit she didn’t mind watching Porter’s muscles work. He lifted it as if it weighed nothing and strode confidently to the front door. Porter swung it wide.

      “Olivia...after you.”

      She felt his eyes on her body as she walked through the door, and the sensation sent a warm tingle down her spine.

      As they waited for the elevator, Porter leaned closer.

      “You know, I could get into that cab with you right now,” Porter said, his voice a low rumble. “We could have that party tonight.”

      “Could we?” Liv’s voice came out throaty and low as she sucked in a breath. Porter took a step closer. It was right then that she realized it had been far too long since she’d been this close to a man.

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