Their Matchmaker Read online

  She appreciated the break in tension. “Sort of, but not quite. This isn’t like a Cosmo dating quiz. It’s a little more like word association. Some of my questions are very specific. For instance, would you rather stay up all night and sleep in, or go to bed early and get a start on the day before the rest of the world?”

  “Stay up all night,” Gavin said at the same time Aaron answered, “Get up early.”

  That ought to make things interesting. “Noted. Other questions are more freeform, and intentionally vague. I’d like you to answer the first thing that pops into your head. Like what’s your favorite toy?”

  Aaron smirked. “The handcuffs in the top drawer.”

  “Aww, that’s a good one.” Gavin huffed in exaggerated disappointment. “I was going to say my vibrating game controller, but I like his answer better. Can I change mine?”

  Maybe letting them bounce their answers off each other wasn’t a good idea. Cynthia couldn’t help but smile at the exchange, though. “No. First answer is final.”

  “What are the odds that, when we’re done, you’ll explain your logic to me?” Gavin leaned in and rested his forearms on the desk.

  She studied his face, looking for a hint he was joking. No one cared how the data worked. That was boring stuff. Only sincerity stared back. She shook her head. “Sorry. Some of this is proprietary. Secret blend of eleven bits and bytes, and all that.”

  “If you’re only using eleven, I’m impressed.” Aaron winked.

  “It’s all about quality, not quantity.” She turned back to her computer. “Are you ready to get started?” For the next half-hour or so, she ran through her current questionnaire, doing her best to keep a straight face through the teasing and bad jokes. She’d never had this kind of trouble staying professional during an interview before.

  The words stuck in her throat when she realized where she was in the questions, and she mentally shoved the hesitation aside with enough force it rattled in her skull. “The next block is about sex.” She was impressed she kept her voice steady. Which was ridiculous. She never had a problem with this before. She could be clinical, because sexual preferences were as much a part of the job as whether someone liked country or heavy metal.

  There was no reason to turn into a giggling schoolgirl over two men. She repeated the reminder until it stuck. Just because she knew Aaron was an enticing kisser and she was fighting off fantasies about being pressed between him and Gavin—heat flowing between all three of them, hands sliding anywhere and everywhere—didn’t mean she would lose her cool.

  “Like the other questions, these may seem random, though not as much. But I promise it’s all between us, except for whatever you decide to share with your date.” She added a chuckle at the end. That was all part of her script, and if she could stick to that, she’d be fine.

  “But this is a dating service. Not an escort service.” Gavin still watched her with that intense curiosity that stole her breath and fuzzed her thoughts.

  Fortunately, this was part of the script as well. “That’s true. I never assume where the dates will or won’t lead. Everything outside of me hooking you up and hoping you enjoy each other’s company is incidental and between the three of you. For instance, the two of you are looking for...”

  “Scintillating conversation. That’s it. Everything else is incidental.” Aaron winked.

  “Right.” She let her skepticism bleed into her reply. “So we start with the easy questions, and probably the most obvious. But I make no assumptions, so you have to answer them all. Are you abstinent and/or waiting until after you’re married to have sex?”

  Aaron snorted. “Really?”

  “No assumptions.” She was enjoying this more than she should be.

  “Do you want details about the no, we’re not abstinent?” Gavin asked.

  She did. Vivid, intense, details. Enough. “We’ll get to those later in the process. I’m just going to put no.”

  “Do you get into things like what attracts us first to a person? Favorite physical features?” Gavin looked to be taking this more seriously than Aaron.

  Cynthia liked that someone was actually interested in how this worked. She had to be careful, or she’d geek out and start talking tech with Gavin, instead of doing her job. “No. I ask about body type, but nothing more specific than that.”

  “Why not?” Gavin wanted to know.

  “Because the number of people who are honest about it is so low, it’s not a valid question.”

  “In other words,” Aaron said, “you expect most people will say, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, and you don’t buy it.”

  She shrugged. “Experience is a cruel mistress. Are you ready to move forward?”

  “Can’t wait.” Aaron’s tone was enthusiastic.

  She read from the screen. “Your favorite dating accessory.” This was one of her most vague questions, because it was the best way to lead a conversation a lot of people were uncomfortable diving into head first.

  “Necktie.” Aaron didn’t hesitate.

  “Worn around the neck?” Cynthia prodded, hoping he’d open up more. For clinical purposes, of course. Not because the single word danced over her like flames licking her senses.

  “If it’s worn somewhere else, it ceases to be a dating accessory.” Aaron twisted his mouth. “Worn around the wrists. Not mine.”

  “Or over the eyes,” Gavin added.

  The responses summoned accompanying fantasies in Cynthia’s mind, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep fantasy from rushing in. “I guess it’s a good thing there are two of you, then.” Don’t flirt with the clients.

  “Not the first time we’ve heard that.” Gavin’s expression shifted from serious toward playful, but the intensity in his dark eyes didn’t vanish.

  This was a dangerous way to let this conversation meander. Cynthia didn’t have the desire to reel them back in, though. “Why a necktie? Is it the texture?” The question had nothing to do with her form, and everything to do with the images teasing her.

  “Convenience,” Aaron said.

  Gavin nodded. “It’s all about spontaneity.”

  “I don’t know what kind of men you date”—Aaron held her gaze—“but I don’t typically wear a rope as an accessory.”

  “Though I suppose I could find an excuse in a pinch.” Gavin added.

  Aaron scrunched his face up in mock-thought. “Pinching has its place too.”

  “If we’re just throwing logic to the wind, ass-slapping is one of my favorite accessories.” Gavin grinned.

  She should argue that wasn’t wearable, but thought of handprints on bare skin danced in her mind, and she didn’t know if she could pretend to be professional if she let one of them describe that in detail. “Sensation play, then?” She struggled to turn the conversation back to the form.

  Gavin furrowed his brows. “Play sounds so formal. You wouldn’t think a word like that could be anything except fun, but you tack play on the end of something sexual, and suddenly it carries an expectation.”

  “Which is bad because... spontaneity?” Cynthia warred between falling into vivid conversation and doing her job.

  “It’s not always bad,” Aaron said. “It has its place.”

  Gavin looked around her office. “This place, for instance, has a lot of potential for play.”

  “I think we’re getting off track.” Who was she kidding? She didn’t want to get back on track. She was fascinated with the way Aaron and Gavin fed each other in conversation, and wondered if they did the same thing when it came to sex. Which intensified the throb between her thighs.

  Aaron studied her. “Are we? You never mix business with pleasure?”

  God, she wanted to. “Never.”

  “So you’re not enjoying this?” Gavin gave her an exaggerated pout.

  “Maybe a little.” Her heart slammed into her ribs as she let the confession slip out.

  “What would it take to make it a lot?” Aaron prodded.
r />   “Nope. We’re going back to the questions.” Despite the words, she was about to do exactly what she said she wouldn’t, and mix business with pleasure. “What kind of potential do you see in a room like this?” As long as they kept everything verbal, she could convince part of herself that this was professional. And save any tidbits shared for tonight, when she was home alone with her vibrator.

  Chapter Six

  GAVIN WAS GRATEFUL he let Aaron talk him into this, if for no other reason than the interview was fun. Cynthia kept up with them, never missing a beat, and the way she pushed to hide her flustered blush was alluring. “You’re so clinical.” He kept the teasing in his voice. “We’re talking about the potential of your office. That’s work-related, isn’t it? Your desk for instance. It’s mostly clear. The simple, obvious answer for where you’d start, play-wise, is on that.”

  “You mean your date,” Cynthia corrected him.

  He studied her. “Do I?”

  “Sure. He means the vague, generic you,” Aaron said. “If that makes you comfortable. But he’s wrong. The desk is clean because you’re a neat freak, and you might get distracted if something gets knocked off.”

  Gavin waited for her to point out that was a very specific statement for something intended to be about a vague, generic person.

  Despite the pink flushing Cynthia’s cheeks, she smirked. “Gavin did say the desk was an obvious answer. So is the couch, if you were going there next.”

  Gavin glanced at the sofa behind him, then turned back to her. She had captivating eyes, and they sparkled with amusement. “Not the couch.” He shook his head. “One of the leather chairs by the table. Exposed metal arms and legs. Perfect for binding you to.”

  Cynthia shifted in her seat.

  Were they making her squirm? Fuck, he hoped so. He wouldn’t mind making this scenario real, to find out how wet she was.

  What were the odds they could take her out or take her here, rather than go through this ridiculous investor contract? Probably pretty slim, since there was still a business angle to this for both her and Aaron. That didn’t stop Gavin from enjoying the exchange, and he had zero intention of dialing it back if no one was protesting.

  “You’ve only got two neckties between you,” Cynthia pointed out. “I’m having trouble with the math—comparing those to the four total limbs that need binding.”

  Which meant she’d surrendered all movement. Gavin’s cock strained against his zipper.

  “Then I hope you wore a dress or a skirt. Preferably with thigh-high stockings, like you wore at the exhibit.” Aaron’s voice held a heavy current that Gavin recognized instinctively. Aaron was as turned on as Gavin.

  Cynthia ducked her head. “I wasn’t wearing—”

  “You were. Thigh-high stockings, and a dress slit high and showing off the hint of lace, but only if you shifted your weight right,” Aaron said.

  This kept getting better. Gavin picked up the thread. “That solves the issue of not-enough accessories. Your stockings bind your ankles, ties on your wrists, and—oh no—your skirt is pushed up over your hips, leaving you exposed.”

  “Oh no, indeed.” Cynthia drifted her fingers along the edge of her collar, bottom lip caught between her teeth. She wasn’t making any pretense of typing now. Her other hand vanished under the desk.

  Gavin was tempted to slide his hand between her legs. Or work his cock free while she fingered herself. He could go either way.

  “And if you’re in something like you wore the other night, tied at the back of the neck and leaving your back bare, it’s easy to untie the straps and let the dress fall away.” Aaron’s voice dropped an octave.

  Maybe they should give Cynthia a break. Which was an excuse. If Gavin kept this up, he was going to need an outlet sooner rather than later. “How does something like this get categorized on your questionnaire?”

  Cynthia fiddled with the button on her blouse. A flick of the wrist, and it would slip from its hole, giving a better glimpse of her full breasts underneath. Already her quick breathing made them strain against her top. “Medium propensity toward bondage, higher on the exhibitionism and voyeurism scales.”

  “I don’t think programming has ever sounded so sexy.” Aaron winked. “How do you put in the details of what comes next?”

  She traced her fingers along her skin, dipping between her breasts then back up. Did she realize she was doing that? “I guess it depends on what next is.”

  Aaron rose from his seat a few inches, then sat back down, gripping the arms of the chair hard enough his knuckles turned pale. “Standing behind you. Kissing along the back of your neck. Cupping your exposed breasts. There’s some of the pinching that we mentioned earlier. How hard is up to you.”

  “So, low to medium on the sensation and pain scale.” Cynthia’s voice was strained.

  Apparently trying to dial things back to clinical didn’t make a difference. Need slid along Gavin’s skin, prickling his nerve endings until the slightest movement of fabric amplified his arousal. “Closer to medium. Expect marks.”

  “Noted.” Cynthia’s voice cracked.

  So much for staying removed. Fuck it, with pretenses. “While Aaron’s giving your upper half attention, I’m kissing along those long, exposed legs and over your thighs.

  Cynthia whimpered, blush spreading to her neck when Aaron raised his brows.

  Gavin didn’t flinch. “Sliding a finger inside you. Licking along your slit. Enjoying the way you squirm.”

  “Oh.” Cynthia’s exclamation didn’t have that growing pleasure sound Gavin expected. “I know where I know you from.” She clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “Or rather... squirming and marks?”

  Gavin’s mood soured, as ice flowed into his veins.

  “You’ve never seen him before, unless it was grocery shopping or getting coffee.” Aaron shook his head. The sexual tension evaporated from the room, leaving suffocating reality in its place.

  “You’re Gavin Jackson from—”

  “Do you have all the data you need?” Gavin had known this was a possibility, but the jarring transition made it difficult to process.

  “Yes.” Cynthia seemed to shrink in her seat. “It is you, isn’t it? I had the biggest crush on you when I was in junior high.”

  Normally that single phrase was enough to spoil Gavin’s day. This evening, it almost brought his mood back to even-keel. “If I tell you yes, you’re not allowed to put that in my profile. We signed an NDA.”

  Cynthia frowned. “You think... I wouldn’t ever. I’m curious. It’s not often a get a face wrong. But anonymous means exactly that.”

  The assurance didn’t ease Gavin’s mind completely, but it helped. “How long until we get results?”

  “A minute or two. At least for initial feedback. It’s going to be a larger list than your final output, until I filter it by people who are willing to surrender the three-date guarantee and are interested in dating more than one guy at once. That’s not data I have stored for anyone else.”

  “Perfect.” Aaron’s cheer sounded forced. “We’re helping you improve your business model. This is going to be a fantastic partnership.”

  Gavin used Aaron’s words to smother his disappointment at the abrupt interruption. It was a good reminder he and Aaron were in this for fun, but not with the woman behind the desk.

  CYNTHIA HAD NEVER BEEN fond of her knack for saying the most inappropriate thing at the worst possible time. Today she wasn’t sure if she was grateful for the slip-up or not. She’d been enjoying the interview a lot more than she should, but now she couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities they presented.

  For some other lucky guy or gal.

  Even if she did want to slide her fingers between her legs and take care of the nagging ache. Maybe once Gavin and Aaron left.

  She pushed the thoughts aside and turned back to enter their information while it was fresh in her mind. Some of the inputs stayed blank, thanks to their rambling conversation
, but she was able to fill in most of the data the computerized side of things required.

  She hit Execute, to let the program do its work, and waited for it to return a large list of names. She needed to put more filters in place before it would be effective, but this way she could make sure the system was accepting two inputs correctly.

  Her computer chimed, indicating there were results. One set went to the client inbox, and the other to hers.

  She stared in disbelief at the screen.

  Matches Found: 1

  Cynthia Tremaine

  Fuck. She must have programmed something wrong. Her information was only in the system for testing, and it never returned as a match unless she entered off-the-wall data.

  “Is everything all right?” Aaron asked.

  “Yeah. Fine.” She deleted the match results on her end, and sent them to the trash for the men’s profile. “I’m ironing out some glitches, as I mentioned. I may need a day or two before we can move to the next step.”

  Gavin’s chair scraped back, teetering on two legs before deciding not to fall, when he stood. “Great. Drop Aaron an email when it’s done.”

  “I appreciate this.” Aaron gave her an apologetic smile. “I look forward to building our partnership.”

  “Me too. I’ll be in touch.” She saw them to the front door and shook their hands. It was no use trying to ignore the firm grips that had her bound in her imagination.

  She turned away, despite the temptation to watch Aaron and Gavin stroll to the elevators.

  “Ms. Tremaine. This came in for you, while you were in your meeting.” The receptionist handed her a FedEx envelope.

  “Thanks.” Cynthia grabbed it and tore off the strip as she wandered back to her office. Her thoughts were on the last hour or so, as she sank into her chair. She should be figuring out why her algorithms were off, but nope. She was pondering the logistics of being tied to one of her office chairs.

  She tilted the envelope and slid out the contents, only half-paying attention to what was inside.

  Notice to cease and desist.