Eli
“He’s so boring, the stick up his ass probably seems comfortable.” I flopped down in Preston’s comfiest chair and shook my head. “What were you thinking?”
“You saw the pictures. We both agreed he was fabulous.” Leaning back in his chair, Preston stretched out and seemed to be fighting off a yawn. Why was he so tired?
I thought back to everything I’d been supposed to do for the company lately, and I couldn’t think of any ball I’d dropped or paperwork I’d missed. I’d have to check my master to-do list at home, but for the time being, I was pretty sure it wasn’t my fault.
“But the man who took those pictures was not the stuffy guy who was so judgmental up there earlier.” I shook my head at the memory. “He was—”
I wasn’t even sure how to describe it. He’d been dressed professionally, and once I’d walked away, he’d done a good job talking to the other models, but something about him put me on edge. Maybe it was the condescending looks he’d given me or the anger that had flashed through his eyes when I’d flirted with him. Like he’d taken it personally or something.
Flirting was like breathing. People needed it to survive.
Well, some people…fabulous ones like me.
“He’s going to be miserable here, and he’ll drag everyone down with him.” I was a pretty good judge of who would fit and who wouldn’t. That’s why new employees usually got a baptism by fire kind of treatment. Photographers got naked models and chaos, and everyone else at the company got to sit through a photo shoot.
Seeing how they reacted and how they treated people was key to making sure they’d fit. He was not going to fit.
“He looked at me like I was some kind of bug.” I couldn’t get the look out of my head. “Or something under the bottom of his shoe that was sticky and gross.”
But the guy had been hot.
His casual business attire hadn’t fit in with the rest of us, but had made him look sexy and a little bit superior. It was enough to get my curiosity going. For just a moment, I’d seen a stern guy who knew exactly what to do with a brat like myself, but then it was gone in a flash.
Preston sighed but didn't disagree with me. “And you just couldn’t resist baiting him.”
“I wasn’t lying, and I wanted to see how he would respond.” Greg had spanked me when it was called for in a photo shoot. Sometimes the panties looked so much hotter with a nice pink ass. What I hadn’t mentioned to the stick, or anyone else for that matter, was that Greg would bend me over and spank me when I’d needed it as well.
He’d been mostly straight. Well, too straight for me, so it never went beyond that, but it’d been a stress reliever that I’d needed. There was no way I’d have anything close to that kind of relationship with the new guy.
I sighed and slouched back. “From the pictures, I thought he’d be different.” Maybe I’d baited him a little, but it’d just been such a disappointment.
Preston understood immediately what I was talking about. “Me too.” He reached forward and pushed a few buttons on the computer, bringing up Roman’s portfolio. The official one, and the file with the other photos that he’d found online.
“I don’t know how those photos were taken by the same man.” Shaking my head, I looked at the contrast.
The still-life photos were boring, and the portraits were good but nothing spectacular. It wasn’t until Preston had shown me the ones of Roman’s ex that I’d seen his real potential. The ones he’d taken of his lover had been amazing.
He’d caught the passion and the fire behind his lover. He’d also managed to show BDSM scenes that could have ended up disturbing or just kink, and had brought a magic to them that made them incredible. We’d been positive that man could take the site to the next level.
People didn’t always understand the vision that Preston and I had for the company. We’d always wanted it to be more than just a traditional web store for lingerie. We wanted a place for people to feel safe and welcomed. Where their passion and kink didn’t have to be hidden or make them feel ashamed. The blogs, vlogs, selfies, and stock all worked toward that goal.
The fact that the whole thing was succeeding financially was a bonus as far as I was concerned.
“I’m caught in the same dilemma.” Preston looked at the photos, studying them, then gestured toward the sexy ones. “This was the man who I’d hoped would interview with us.”
“Instead we got that jackass who hates me.” And I wasn’t even being dramatic and ridiculous.
Preston turned and started studying me. “Have you slept with him? Had a bad scene at a club, maybe?”
I would have been offended, but we’d had a problem a few months ago with another employee when something like that had happened. So it wasn’t as soap opera-ish as it sounded. Luckily, I was in the clear for this one. “Hell no, I’d remember that man. There is no way this is my fault.”
“Masquerade balls? Random hookups with a couple while you were visiting your family?” Now he was starting to grasp at straws.
“Elijah has to go visit family. He’s not even gay, much less anything else weird. I couldn’t have met him like that.” Eli and Elijah were like Superman and Clark Kent, except in my case, one was boring and as close to asexual as I could get him, and the other was the fabulous me that only got to come out when I was away from my family.
But thanks to school and the business, that was more often than I’d ever thought possible.
Preston nodded. “Maybe he’ll relax and things will calm down. You didn’t veto him, so I offered him the job, and he accepted. Let’s give him some time.”
Not liking me wasn’t a good enough reason to fire him. I knew Eli was an acquired taste. But usually, people who were honest about wanting to work at Leashes and Lace were expecting interesting, feisty individuals.
Why in the hell had he even applied?
There had to be other opportunities for a reasonable photographer. Hell, even one of those kiddie places at the mall would be less chaos. I was starting to second-guess my decision not to veto him.
“I don’t like vetoing. It seems wrong.”
“Eli,” Preston sighed. We’d had the conversation before, so I knew what was coming. “It’s your company. That means you get to say who works here and who doesn’t.”
“It’s only my company because you made me take fifty-one percent ownership.” I was simply thankful he didn’t make me actually run most of it. That would have been mind-numbingly boring.
He shook his head. “It’s your company because it was your blog that started it, and you were the one selling panties out of your dorm room. This is your baby. You let me take care of it and do all the practical things, but we both know I wouldn’t have thought of this on my own.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Bullshit. You would have come up with something cool and fabulous. I just pushed you in the kinky direction you were destined to find, anyway.” When I’d been a slightly awkward freshman in college selling the panties I’d shown on my blog out of my dorm room, he’d been living across town finishing up his MBA, not sure what he really wanted to do.
It was fate that we’d met.
He’d gone to a party at my dorm one Friday night, hoping to find a hookup. We’d had all the doors open on my floor and were well on our way to getting wasted. He’d taken one look at my room and had known immediately who I was. He said it was the combination of posters that had made it so memorable. To him, the terrible eighties hairbands that were decorating my walls did not go with the panties and lingerie that I’d talked about and sold. He just didn’t have enough imagination to see how they went together perfectly.
I’d panicked a little when I’d realized that he knew, but it quickly became clear he was just as into it as I was. But he didn’t want to wear the panties; he wanted a boyfriend who would. It was also clear, though, that we weren’t meant to be anything other than friends. He was kind of boring, and he said I was insane.
But it made for a good working relationship.
“I’m not going to debate that with you again. But back to Roman; if you really think he’s not a good fit, why didn’t you veto him?”
That was a very good question.
Finally, I waved my hand toward the screen. “Those. He’s good when he’s not taking pictures of boring little old ladies.”
And he was hot. Something about him made my nerves stand on end, and I wanted him to look just at me. It was going to suck if that stick stayed lodged up his ass all the time. “Maybe I should have said no.”
We’d started the whole veto thing when this one photographer back at the beginning had made every internal alarm I had go off. Before we’d worked out a system for hiring people, Preston would just look at portfolios and talk to them. It wasn’t until I’d accidentally walked half-naked into an interview that I’d realized we needed something else.
The guy had given me the creeps. Something about the way he watched me made my skin crawl. Until that point, Preston had complete hiring authority, and I hadn’t interfered at all. Hell, only a handful of people actually knew I was the real owner.
Not sure what to do, I’d thrown myself dramatically into Preston’s lap and kissed him. Then whispered if he hired the creepy guy I was going to help with the accounting again. That threat had been enough to make him realize how serious I was.
The creepy guy had ended up arrested a few months later for posting hidden cameras in changing rooms, so we’d taken a long look at our hiring practices. That was when we finalized the veto procedure and had started making everyone meet at least some of the models in a photo shoot.
People showed their freak flag or their creepy-crawly side very quickly when sexy guys were naked.
In the five years that we’d had it implemented, there hadn’t been any issues. That was, until Roman. “I don’t know. He didn’t do anything to make me think he’s bad-weird or going to end up in jail, but I seriously rub him the wrong way.”
“Should I call him back and say I’ve changed my mind? It’s not my naked ass he’s going to be photographing, and I don’t want you to feel unsafe or uncomfortable, Eli. I’ve said that from the very beginning when you didn’t want to give up the blog and photos.” Preston was clearly torn over how the interview had gone.
Preston had done his best to talk me out of staying in front of the camera. Even though I was careful about my face showing and giving too much personal information, he still thought it was dangerous. I liked it. I loved the freedom it gave me to just be myself and to have fun.
It was really the only part of my day that was basically only for me.
Yeah, it was technically a job, but it was one I’d created. He was right, it was my baby, and I wasn’t ready to walk away from that part. I was probably going to end up a wrinkly eighty-year-old model in panties still trying to shake my ass online, but that was fine with me.
“We’ll give it a few weeks and see how it goes. If it’s only me he doesn’t like, then I’ll just suck it up. I’m more worried about everyone else and how the photos will turn out. Now, if they turn out like those fucking apples, then I’m going to lose my marbles and he’s gone. Deal?”
Preston laughed. “Deal. But if we get his good stuff, we might be stuck with him because those were the best we’d gotten.”
I coughed. “Um, we didn’t get those, remember? He just sent the fucking fruit.”
Sighing, Preston shook his head. “He should have sent the other ones too. This is a fetish and lingerie store, what was he thinking?”
I snorted. “Not with his little head, that’s for sure.”
Preston started choking, so I shook my head and scoffed. “Oh no, you don’t get to play prude. And you know I’m right. The best photographers we’ve had were the ones who loved the subject matter.”
I thought that had come out pretty professional.
Preston didn’t think so because he laughed. “So the only good ones are the horny guys who have to go home and jerk off after seeing you guys all day?”
“Hey, I like Toby, he’s a sweet little thing. Just a little nervous and repressed.” Toby was one of the photographers who worked with us occasionally, and he was a cutie.
Shy and quiet, Toby came alive behind the camera, and it was clear from the pictures he took, and how turned on he got sometimes, that he loved the lingerie…and the guys. I just wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to wear it, or if he liked the men who had it on. I’d tried pushing him, but he’d blush and clam up.
And not wanting to chase away a great photographer, I tried to give him some space and let him work with the easier guys who looked fabulous in the romantic style that Toby seemed to bring out in them. Some days, it was hard. I had this almost irresistible urge to poke at people until I understood them.
Preston said it was unhealthy and made me a nuisance.
I thought it made me lovable and quirky.
“We all like Toby. That’s not the debate here. Roman. We’re trying to decide if we fucked up with hiring him.” Preston looked back at the computer.
He wanted Roman. Not like sexually. I had a feeling they were both pretty strong tops and Dominants. No, he wanted the new photos Roman took for the site to have the same qualities that he’d brought out in the BDSM photos we’d found. He was right.
But I also thought it was going to come back and bite us on the ass.
“We give it a while and see what happens. It will be fine.” I was usually the neurotic basket case that had to be talked down; seeing Preston concerned about anything was weird.
“We’ve made a family with this company. It’s not conventional in any sense, but it works for us and for the business. I don’t want to do anything that might disrupt that.” The company might have been my baby, but Preston had helped to raise it just as much as I had. Maybe more.
“One person, even if they’re nuts, won’t create absolute havoc. It will be fine.”
Hell, what could go wrong? It was just one guy.