Page 38 of Pack End Game

The guys make appropriately impressed sounds in between taking turns asking endless questions about the specifics of my job. Zak, in particular, seems keen to understand my typical working schedule. I point out the offices of my coworkers until we arrive at the office closest to Quinn's executive office suite.

"And this one is mine," I tell them proudly, stepping inside and flicking the lights on so that they can appreciate my workspace in all its glory. I might be biased, but I happen to think I have the best office on the floor. The big window overlooks the city and the nearby mountains in the distance.

Spencer and Zak walk politely around the edge of the room, taking in every detail of my space. Freddie is far less chill and touches everything in sight. I'm learning he's very into textiles. Our trip to the grocery store was interesting because he really seems incapable of keeping his hands to himself.

I try to look at my office through their eyes. Lavender accent chair, dark purple bookshelves, and a glass desk that houses my extra-large computer monitor. On the wall across from my desk is the only art in the office, and Freddie is the first to notice the images inside the elegant gold frames.

He gasps. "Are those–"

"Yes," I answer quickly, already bracing myself.

Zak's eyebrows lift as he turns to see what has Freddie's attention. He walks over for a better look, followed by Spencer. The three of them press close together, leaning in as if that's necessary to analyze the very straightforward artwork.

"Are these from the actual product line?" Spencer asks, his voice impressed.

"They are." After I hung the photos up, Quinn was so jealous she asked me to make a couple of variations for her so she could do something similar in her offices here and at home. "One of our in-house photographers did these for me. Isn't she talented?"

Spencer studies the three prints with such a serious expression that I can imagine how he looks watching football film with the team. "Why these specific toys?"

I open my mouth and answer without thinking, "They're my personal favorites."

My office falls so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"I mean from a design perspective," I add hastily.

Freddie is openly delighted, looking at me with a smirk. "Sure."

Zak's mouth twitches. Spencer's eyes darken just enough to make my heart skip a beat.

The truth is that I do love the designs of these toys. And they just so happen to be some of my favorites in the bedroom, too. One of the perks of the job is that Quinn is always handing out free product around the office. There’s no better beta-tester than someone whose paycheck depends on the product being successful. Though I’d argue the employees benefit way more than the company in that regard.

Another thing the HR director has tried unsuccessfully to put a stop to.

"Move on," Spencer tells Freddie with a cheerful pat on the back. He wanders back over to the bookshelves and gestures to the numerous awards dotting my shelves. "You have more trophies than our old man over here." He points his thumb at Zak.

"I'm only a few years older than the rest of you," Zak grumbles. There's more to it than that, though. Zak isn't much older in years, but he carries a wisdom and confidence that make him decidedly a complete daddy.

Spencer crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, studying me closely. We've played all the getting-to-know-you games we could come up with since Friday night, but this is a whole new layer of introducing myself. This space is like my second home.

"I'm good at what I do," I tell Spencer with a confidence that borders on cocky. I've been winning awards for my campaigns since I started working for Quinn straight out of college.

"That's obvious," Zak says.

The praise from my mates feels like enough to make me want to combust into a puddle of goo. I turn away and fuss with the cup of pens on my desk for a minute before my face gives too much away. I'm ready to strip right here and now for them, I swear.

I clear my throat and ask, "Who wants to see the product display room?"

I welcome my scent-matches into one of my favorite rooms in the world.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves line the walls, each section organized by collection and release year. Every version of every toy Quinn has ever made sits under soft spotlights, arranged with museum-worthy reverence. Silicone, glass, and metal in all shapes and colors–including the limited edition finishes.

When my boss first got her start–a couple of years before I joined her mission–she was a one-woman business lucky enough to launch her line with the help of an anonymous angel investor who funded her when no one else would take her concepts seriously.

This space is a testament to Quinn's hard work. The whole team's, actually. We helped Quinn turn her ideas for an omega-centered sex toy company into a global sensation.

I'm usually overwhelmed by pride in here.

Today, I mostly just feel horny.