Circuit Breakers (Contract Negotiations)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 Jordan Billingsly

All rights reserved.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to freedom.  The freedom to make choices, be ourselves, and love without regrets.

To readers who make it all possible and most especially Brooke Carson, without whom this entire story would have never materialized.

If you enjoy this story we ask that you please leave a review and share our names with your friends.

1

A quick rap on the door brought my attention away, suddenly, from the accounting issues I had displayed on the computer monitor in front of me, to the owner of the company.

“Sidney, can you look at this with me?” she asked, almost hesitantly stepping into my office.

Working in a small office of only women, I found myself the go to person for practically everything under the sun. Sure, I’d been raised by a mechanic…on a farm, so squashing a bug or hanging a shelf wasn’t that much of a problem for me.

“Whatcha got?” I replied, appreciating the break from crunching numbers.

“Remember a few months back when we had the ice storm, and we lost power for a few days?”

A historic event I’m sure none of us would soon forget.

“Sure,” I answered, not sure where this was going.

“Remember all the electrical contractors who came right after? The ones we were asking for bids for a back-up generator?  Well, we finally received the only actual bid from any of them. I’m just wondering if you know of a way to verify and see if their bid is overinflated.”

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Having been raised by a man who was a jack of all trades, and master of none, I’d picked up some jargon along the way…besides street smarts.

Leann, athletic build by genetics and runner by choice, fully entered my office to place the bid on my desk. I quickly averted my gaze to the paper. Seeing her tan, toned body always made me want to hide under the desk. When I read the final $ sign at the bottom of the page I thought I’d have a coronary from the sticker shock.

“Oh, yeah, they’re trying to screw us royally!” I said, chuckling at the same time.  “I’ve seen a few generators over the years, a lot more heavy duty, and that is way over the screw the pooch amount.”

“How would we find out for sure? I don’t want to pay more than we need to.”

“I can make some calls and see if we can get more bids.” I offered, even though I didn’t want to get in the middle of the whole process.

“Great, let me know what you find,” she said as she turned to leave.

Damn!  I didn’t have time for this. I’ve been known for letting my willingness to help get me in over my head. So, I let the idea roll around in my head overnight, knowing my only true option was making the phone calls.

****

2

When I got to my desk, the next day, I closed myself up in the office and pulled out the yellow pages.
AC experts, HVAC specialist, electrical contractors…bingo. I called any contractor who had a specialty ad listed and described the details of what we needed. Luckily, the original bid we had, gave me enough facts about the job to Google that information and come up with precise details, which made me sound knowledgeable when phoning the rest of the listings.

The first calls were standard…
who we are, where we’re located, what we’re needing, etc. Then, I made the last call. Something happened, and I didn’t know what it was. His name was Mitch, and immediately his voice smoothly lulled me. All the doubts I was having about finding a contractor melted away, and a strumming spread through my inner electrical system causing my body to vibrate. At first, I started to wonder if I’d had too much caffeine this morning. I even found myself revealing more details about myself, in relation to contracting and electrical work, than I’d even thought of when I talked to the first contractors.

It just so happened, Mitch was going to be close enough to our office, later today, and was going to stop by to give us a bid. I hung up the phone and the intensity of my reaction to him amped me up. What the hell was going on?  Why was I feeling zings coursing through my whole body?  Suddenly, I couldn’t sit still.

Even knowing that it’d be a few hours until he arrived, I busied myself in the front office. Looking for anything to do to keep myself from sitting down…because I couldn’t, I even offered to help with the overdue filing, which I hated with a passion. My eyes kept drifting to the front door, in anticipation of his arrival.  I know everyone thought I’d lost my mind, and I was thinking the same thing, after realizing that I hadn’t sat down for over an hour.

THEN, he arrived.  I knew who he was, immediately, when I happened to see him standing outside our door. Sparks shot down my thighs and forearms, leaving me almost breathless and giddy at the same time. Tamp it down! I mentally warned myself before giving him access inside our domain.

Shaking his hand, when he introduced himself, I didn’t want to let go. He was every delectable bit of six feet plus with wide shoulders, dark shaggy hair, and big blue eyes. The long sleeve, denim shirt fit him well, as did the designer jeans…the ones with the obvious blonde stitch-work along all the seams. While I guessed him to be younger than my forty-five years, I knew he was definitely over thirty.

As I turned to lead him through our suite and out the back door where he could inspect our electrical system, I could only grin as I walked by all the other women in the office. Oh yeah, ladies!  Pop those eyes back in and wipe up your drool!  If any of the compliments made about my ‘hot ass’ were true, I hoped he was getting an eye full and appreciating the view.

Once the outside door closed behind us, we talked in earnest about our project, professional to the tenth degree. We discussed possibilities. The more we talked, the more help he offered that wasn’t part of the actual bid. Our eyes would meet, my mind wandered, and I’d lose track of the conversation. My eyes would track down his torso and back up, as quickly as they could, without seeming to be coming on too strong, but man did I want to crawl in the middle of him. I’d mentally slap my forehead to get back on track.

When it was obvious he had enough information, he promised to have a bid ready by the following day. We exchanged business cards, and he said he’d call as soon as he had his figures
together. Shaking his hand, again, I wondered if he felt the same electrical jolts, that I did, when our skin touched.

After he left, it felt like I had my own drool to remove as I made my way back to my desk. Once again, I felt like I couldn’t sit still. I returned to the front resuming my earlier task of helping out. Because, why blow my cover, right?  One by one various contractors also came, and I repeated the process of touring them around the building, out the rear door, and back to the front door. None of these men had the same effect on me. WTF!

****

3

I thought about Mitch, all evening, and tossed and turned thinking of what had happened. The next morning, due to lack of sleep, I was late leaving my house. Half way to work, my assistant contacted me and said Mitch had already phoned, asking that I return his call. Just the mention of his name made my heart rate spike, along with my adrenaline. She said she’d text me his number immediately. When I got the message, I realized this wasn’t the same number we’d spoken on the day before. This was a cell phone number.

Dialing his number, I had to clear my throat a few times before he answered the phone. But it was no use, the hairs on my arm were already standing before he even said hello. He informed me of his bid and said he could deliver it, but wanted to know if I’d be there to receive it. Goose bumps shot across my skin.

I explained I was en route and offered an alternative solution...Meet me. I’d never been this bold before or had this zinging feeling. What the HELL was I thinking?

The words were out of my mouth before I even realized it. Those, as well as, an exact destination in the downtown area that I figured would be quiet, given the time. The next thing I knew, I was parking my car waiting for Mitch. I sat with my fingers glued around the steering wheel, white knuckled, as I voice dialed the office to let my assistant know I’d be running later than expected. I omitted the details about my overwhelming need to see this man, and she seemed okay with the details of “contract” talk. When she disconnected the call, I sat staring out the front windshield of my car, with my hands still on the wheel. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back, slightly, and let whatever chemistry that had started the day before, run rampant through my body.

As I sat there, for God knows how long, I’m sure I was probably a sight, if anyone should   wander this far back into the parking lot and catch me fantasizing in my front seat. I know I was lost, because the knock that came on my passenger window had me startled and nearly gave me heart failure. Looking sharply toward the noise, I found Mitch leaning over, grinning as he watched me, one hand resting on the top of my car, the other on the door handle. I slammed my hand over my heart, took a couple of quick breaths, and unlocked the door.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he drawled, smoothly, the grin never leaving his lips. He sank into the seat and placed a manila folder on the floor by his feet.

Face flushed, I stammered, “I . .
.um . . .I didn’t sleep that well last night, just resting a bit,” I lamely tried to explain.

Mitch chuckled, then turned in his seat toward me, slightly, “Me either.”

I still had my hands clenched on the steering wheel without realizing it, and my eyes leveled to the slightly worn spot on the knee of his jeans. Before I knew what was happening, Mitch placed his index finger under my chin, tilted my face up, and leaned in to place his lips on mine. My adrenaline rush shot through the roof.

Soft, but firm, lips were meeting mine, and a questing tongue slipping across the seam, had me opening my mouth as I stared into his eyes, before closing them and losing myself to mind-numbing sensations. His hand moved to the nape of my neck, and I felt myself being tugged across the console onto his lap, never losing contact as our tongues tangled. I vaguely noticed when he slipped his hand between his legs and released the seat to slide farther back. I only knew, I had more freedom to move and took advantage.

Twisting in his lap I ran my hands across his shoulders, around his neck, then through his hair before spreading them across his back. Mitch continued to kiss me like a starving man in need of food, and I was his meal. He stroked his hands up and down my back, pausing, tantalizingly slow, on the down stroke near my ass. I strained to burrow closer, my legs squirming with the need to squeeze him between them. My body tingled with the need to be touched all over then stilled as Mitch’s hand firmly molded itself to the cheek of my ass and tugged me closer on the next downward slide. The pressure was exquisite torture, but I wanted it. I moved my head to the side and arched my back to increase the feel of his contoured chest rubbing against the sensitized tips of my breasts. His lips moved to my jaw then continued to my ear lobe, where he nipped slightly before running his tongue over the same area. But Mitch still didn’t move those glorious lips where I wanted them the most.

His lips continued their slow, torturous exploration, as he applied quick butterfly kisses down my neck. When his mouth paused at the delicate bend where neck and shoulder met, he latched on to my neck and sucked with greater force. A tidal wave traveled all the way to my sex, where moisture pooled, soaking my panties. I could feel the hard, thick length of him pressing against my hip and I whimpered with need. When his free hand reached my breast, instead of finding relief, my need for him grew. A moaned was wrenched from my body as my nipple hardened further. The electricity in the air was palpable, and I thought I might combust.