Page 6 of Instant Bond

“You want me to come test your products?”

“Something like that. We’d like your thoughts on how the products make you feel, the experience of using them, that kind of thing.”

I could tell he was tempted, probably because he needed the money. It was ethically wrong taking advantage of that particular fact, but I didn’t see another way.

“You…” He hesitated, the pretty bloom of pink rising to his cheeks again. “You’re not going to make me do anything weird, right?”

“My team will be using some cosmetic products on you. Nothing more,” I promised him. I didn’t even want to ponder what he’d had in mind that would beweirdfor me to make him do.

“So like lotion and stuff?”

I couldn’t help but grin at his idea of cosmetics. It was obvious he didn’t make much time for self care or spoiling himself. That was fine. I could fix that.

“Skincare, makeup, haircare, fragrance. Nothing strange or intrusive.”

“You’d really pay me for that?” He asked in disbelief.

“Our product management team would pay you for that,” I corrected him. “It’s a standard business practice, I assure you.”Also technically true. Not for our business. But for someone’s business.

“Well… I mean, sure. Okay. I could do that. But I can only do it in the morning, and only when I have a day off.”

“That’s fine.” My heart was pumping fast in my chest. Finally, I’d gained some ground in the situation. The challenge of gaining this lovely omega’s trust was only going to make it that much sweeter when he finally relented. “We can work around your schedule.”

Opening my wallet and pulling out a sleek little business card, I pushed it into his hand. Our fingers brushed, heat blooming between our skin where we touched. Jumping a little at the sensation, he blushed again, looking down at the card.

His reactions, along with the scent I couldn’t stop breathing in, were delicious. I could feel my cock stiffening, and hoped he wouldn’t notice anything. Popping an erection at this stage in the interaction was bound to kill some of my credibility and non-threatening status.

“The number at the top is our general number. Call and ask for the product management team, tell them I approved you. I’ll make sure they know who you are. The number at the bottom is my personal cell, in case you have any questions. Or if you decide you just want to talk.”

“Okay.” The nervous tone in his voice made it obvious that he wouldn’t text me personally, but we could work up to that.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Cameron.”

I left him with those words as I made my way out of the alley to my car. I had a lot of calls to make.

CAM

“AND THEN SHEthrew up all over the desk!” Ty gleefully recounted the story of a sick classmate from the previous day as we waited for his school bus. It was early, with the sun barely yet lighting up the sky, but we were both used to being up early. “We had to leave the classroom while they cleaned it all up!”

“Lovely,” I responded, resisting the urge to sigh over my son’s love of everything gross. He hadn’t gotten that from me.

“Yep! I bet she’ll be out sick today,” he predicted, tugging on the straps of his Epic Power Squad backpack as he shifted on his little sneakers.

“I sure hope so.” I couldn’t afford to stay home with Ty ifhegot sick, too. I hoped it wasn’t a bug that would make its way through the class. “Make sure you eat the orange in your lunch today. You need the vitamin C.”

“What’s vitamin C?”

“It keeps you from getting sick.”

“Oh. Okay, Dad.” He was so trusting. He asked questions, but only because he was curious, not because he ever doubted my information. “And guess what else?”

“What?” I hoped it wouldn’t be any more bodily-fluid related news.

“We’re making posters! They’re for when you come in for the conferences. We had to write our names and our age and draw our favorite food and animal and say what we want to be when we grow up. And we get to decorate them!”

The parent-teacher conference was two weeks away. I had already booked my spot with Ty’s teacher. Even though both his kindergarten and first grade teacher had been totally friendly and very complimentary toward Ty, I hated going. I was pretty sure everyone was secretly judging me for being a single parent, and especially one so young. Even if Ty always had some of the best grades in the class, and was one of the most well behaved.

“Oh, boy. How are you going to decorate yours?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea. He had a healthy appreciation for glitter in every form it could possibly come in. That one he had gotten from me.

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