Free Throb by Olivia R. Burton Page B

itself perfectly to Finn making
up his own lyrics and singing them to his spectacular face between
kissy sounds.
    Deciding Veruca needed to be witness to his
naked, musical genius, he abandoned the search for the tape just as
he found the drawer in which it was stashed, and rushed out to find
his phone.
    ****
    The meeting was almost over, Veruca thought
happily as she glanced at the time in the corner of the projected
display. She had her computer up, charts and graphs stacked atop
each other in a pile of seemingly disparate windows that she knew
only she could navigate through. She’d had her assistant open
everything in a certain order, planning her speech down to the last
pixel, ending with the announcement of a new location opening at
the end of the summer.
    “ And now, unless there are
any questions, I’ve got some exciting news!”
    Less than a second before she clicked the
final graph, an alert bell rang out through her speakers, the focus
wobbled, and she looked up to find that her timing had saved a room
full of exhausted sales managers and executives from seeing Finn’s
wiggling manhood.
    The graph was a small one,
however, and Finn had sent his video in the largest resolution
possible, so they saw the rest of him. He appeared to be frozen
mid-dance, his attractive mouth open wide in what she hoped
was song and not some sort of announcement of ecstasy.
    The graph also hid his dominant hand,
leaving its purpose up to one’s own imagination.
    This hadn’t been the
exciting news she’d planned to share with the group, but she got a
couple of impressed, “oohs” from the crowd nonetheless. After a
quiet moment in which everyone took some time to either ogle Finn’s
pasty white abs and mussed hair, or politely look away and clear
their throats, Veruca let out a low laugh.
    “Well. As exciting as that may be to some of
us, it wasn’t what I had in mind to share. I’ll be sure not to
leave my e-mail up during the next meeting. What I wanted to say
was that, at the end of summer, we’ve got another location coming!”
Pausing, Veruca ran her gaze over her subordinates, catching a
mouth twitch from at least three of them, letting her know she
wasn’t the only one who’d kept the obvious joke to herself. “Yes,
those of you who like the warmer climates may consider putting in
for a transfer, as we’ll be opening a small B&B just outside of
Las Vegas.”
    ****
    Finn didn’t want to risk
setting out the good plates, so he went with the everyday
dinnerware. He’d managed to go the whole day without screwing
anything up and it seemed like tempting fate to go rooting around
in storage in an attempt to carry expensive glass—ceramic? Clay? He
wasn’t sure what plates were made of, now he thought of it—up to
the kitchen and out to the dinner table. Lighting the candles
around the living room had been adventure enough, and he’d singed his
fingers twice.
    He looked damned good in a
black suit with a baby pink bow tie and shiny shoes, though, and
Veruca would be home any moment, tired from a long day of boring
meetings full of stuffy shirts. She’d be ready to be wined and dined
and…
    A few moments passed as the pasta steamed
inside its foil package and Finn tried to think of a way to rhyme
getting laid with dined, but nothing came to him.
    Giving up, he went back to humming along to
Paul Anka, wiggling happily as he filled the plates with food and
tried to make everything look pretty and romantic. He considered
garnishing with more pepper hearts, but he’d eaten all the red ones
with hummus while trying to decide what to eat for lunch and he
didn’t think yellow hearts worked quite as well for the
holiday.
    Veruca would get the picture, though, he
knew. He’d never met anyone who got him quite as well as she did.
He probably could have used broccoli and she’d have understood what
he was aiming for.
    Grinning giddily as he
checked the time, he rushed the plates out to the table, risked his
fingers to