thinking, why Love Unlimited and not one of the more popular online dating agencies? I have three words for you.” She lifted three elegantly shaped fingers. “The personal touch. That one-on-one human contact that simply cannot be determined with questionnaires and evaluations. It’s been my experience that any long-term relationship is only forty percent chemistry and sixty percent compatibility. And if the chemistry is right, it’s instantaneous. So, that leaves the other sixty percent.”
All the while she spoke, Derrick struggled to keep his eyes above the low-cut neckline of her mint-green silk blouse. He unconsciously licked his lips, imagining the bountiful treasure that lay just beneath the thin material. Try as he might, he simply could not help himself as his eyes repeatedly drifted south. She was so wonderfully endowed, and he was such a devoted breast man.
“Our methods are not always what one would consider traditional.” She stretched her body to reach behind her chair and around to the credenza. Derrick allowed his hungry eyes to roam over her taut outline. Although the rest of her was hidden behind the desk, he already knew she was mostly legs. Long legs he could wrap around his waist. When she’d greeted him in the office lobby, his first impression had been of a luscious Amazon.
“But sometimes, finding just the right match takes something more than the conventional resources.” She placed a brochure on the desk in front of him. “As you can see, we offer complete customer satisfaction.”
She leaned forward to open the brochure, and the innocuous action thrust her bust up and outward in an irresistibly tempting display. “If we are unable to find a match for you within six months, you get an additional six months free. Fair enough?”
Derrick nodded mindlessly. The sum of his cognitive abilities was suddenly otherwise directed—riveted actually—on the lush brown mounds presented before him. The smooth, velvety, flawless skin was as rich and creamy as a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter day.
If he leaned forward just a little, he could cup them in his hands. He could lift them to his face. He could inhale her decadent perfume. He could run his tongue over every curve and contour. Even through the thin silk material of her blouse, he could suck her into his mouth—
“We want the same thing.”
Guiltily, his eyes shot up to her face.
“To find the right woman for you,” she continued blithely. “And if you allow me to do what I do best, I will do exactly that. Do you have any questions?”
Derrick had questions all right. Was she a moaner or a screamer? The thought brought to mind images so provocative he felt the stirring of desire from his brain to the lap of his trousers. A lot of the men he knew were attracted to the petite, insanely thin women who graced magazine covers and television ads, but Derrick had always preferred the more robust, more Rubenesque female body.
While his buddies were drooling over Halle Berry, he was having wet dreams about Queen Latifah. He shifted in his chair, trying to hide his growing erection.
“Mr. Brandt?”
Derrick swallowed hard and tried to bring his mind back to the matter at hand. “No, no questions.” He cleared his throat loudly. “So, what do I have to do to get started?”
“Well, first I need to get some basic information.” She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a file. “Just a short interview to give me a better understanding of the qualities you feel are most important.”
She clicked her retractable pen and opened the file. “Let’s start with physical attributes. What do you find attractive in a woman?”
“Large breasts.”
Derrick watched as she scribbled rapid notes in the file. “Okay, anything else?”
“She needs to be a good breeder.”
Her pen paused over the page for several seconds. “A good breeder?” Oh goodness. I get all kinds in here!
“Yes. Wide hips, sturdy pelvis, that sort of thing.”
“Hmm, oookaaay.” The scribbling continued. “How about looks?”
“Nice looking, but I don’t want a woman who attracts too much attention from other men.” His eyes narrowed in painful remembrance of the last great beauty he’d allowed too close. “I don’t share.”
She scribbled something on the page before her. “So, let’s say average beauty. And educational level?”
“Smart enough to know not to betray me.” Derrick crossed his ankle over his knee to pick off a piece of lint that had gotten trapped in the cuff of his perfectly creased pant leg.
“Hmm…” Her thin brows crinkled as she continued to scribble. “And personality?”
“Good with kids, not too demanding of my time, and financially self-sufficient.” He snorted. “If I wanted to take care of something, I’d adopt a puppy.”
Derrick watched uneasily as she laid the pen down, slowly closed the manila file, and folded her hands together on top of it.
“Mr. Brandt, I was under the impression you were looking for a permanent relationship, a wife.”
“I am.”
“Then, I must say, I’m a little surprised by your responses so far.” She reopened the file and glanced down at what she’d written. “An average-looking woman, who will apparently spend her life in fear of your wrath and be at your beck and call. Not to mention that she is expected to fully support herself despite your wealth and resources.” She glanced at him. “I have to admit, I can’t think of a single woman in my client profiles who fits such a description.”
“Well, I guess you are going to have to expand your client-profile list.”
She shut the file once more, and sat back in the chair. “Or…you’re going to have to find another matchmaker.”
Derrick flinched inwardly, knowing he was about to blow an interview that meant much more to him than he could ever let on. He nervously picked at his pant leg as his mind calculated the best way forward.
On some level, Derrick understood that despite his financial success, Love Unlimited was probably his best chance at romantic happiness.
For the past ten years, Derrick had dated countless women in the pursuit of one—just one…the right one, and had yet to find her.
What he had found instead was his fiancée, Anita, in bed with his college roommate, Chris. He’d also found Carol, the stewardess who had stolen his Amex Black card and taken a group of girlfriends on a one-week, eight-thousand-dollar vacation to Cabo. As pathetic as it was, Derrick knew in his heart that he would’ve forgiven her for the theft. Eight thousand dollars wasn’t even a dent in his wallet. No, it wasn’t the theft that had ended the relationship, but the advanced case of crabs she had brought back from the trip.
Then there was Mira, a reporter for the Philadelphia Herald, whom he discovered was willing to do just about anything, including sleeping with a man—him—she apparently despised, all for the sake of getting enough inside information for a front-page exposé.
Opening the morning paper to find his pillow talk smeared across
