Damaged goods - Sex Stories

Damaged goods

... a therapist or some touchy-feely profession. And you don't look like an astronaut. So I'd go with-" he ran his hand over stubble that would, if he let it, easily join with his crop of short brown head hair in a few weeks "-a buyer for a multi-national?" "Nope, contract negotiator." "Close." "Not really." "So, forgive my ignorance, but what does a contract negotiator do exactly, besides negotiate contracts?" She gave him a précis on how she helped businesses arrive at the most advantageous outcomes when forging new relationships. The company she worked for would often send her away to meet with prospective clients, armed with a brief to win as many negotiation points as possible. In advance of the meeting they'd figure out which points were important and which ones she could use as bargaining chips or could concede. Ryan listened with the portion of his brain not devoted to imagining her naked. "Remind me never to play poker against you." She gave a tight-lipped smile. "It's not all that. You just have to be good at standing your ground and getting what you want." "And do you always get what you want?" "Frequently." "So I don't ever want to be the other guy." She looked wistfully out of the window again. "You never want to be the other guy." Kicking himself for making her think about her recent spat, Ryan hastily changed the subject. "Hey, we've not even introduced ourselves. Want me to guess your name?" "We'll be here all day if you're as crap at it as guessing professions." ...

... She gazed into the distance again. "It's Mel." "Melissa, Melanie, Melinda, Melificent…?" "Melody. Melody Kramer." "Pleased to meet you Melody Kramer contract negotiator." They shook hands. She definitely used lotion and was warm and soft in comparison to his dryer skin, a shade darker than hers. "Ryan. Ryan Noble." "Noble by name or nature?" "Name only. I'm a dick, remember." She tried to suppress a laugh. Ryan was eager to capitalise on the break in her mood and keep the conversation flowing. "So what excites you about your job?" She thought a moment. "The chase. And the winning. Definitely the winning. The perks are good too. Lots of travel. Though it does mean I have to while away evenings alone in bars and restaurants." "Alone? Riiight." Melody shot him a look. "Yes, alone." Ryan raised a sceptical eyebrow in her direction. "Dinner for one? You're not the type." "Solo travellers have a type?" "Absolutely. And you're not it. Sweaty businessmen eat alone. Confident, radiant women dine with clients or have drinks bought for them, at the very least." She avoided his gaze and Ryan broke into a grin. "I knew it!" "What! You said you wouldn't judge me." "No judgement. Just a little character assessment." "What are you, Freud's cousin?" She gave an exasperated sigh. "So maybe I stepped out once." He stopped at the lights. Cocked his head and cast her another disbelieving look, knowing he had her on the ropes. "OK OK, twice. Jesus you got me. It's not like he hasn't been doing it ...