Page 80 of Cuff Me


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Of course, I know how to hold my tongue. But still. No one likes being yelled at.

“You ready?” The woman from before asked. You’re asking me? I thought.

“Sure. Yes.” I reassured myself.

I had given presentations to hundreds of students before, this was just two men. What could go wrong?

“Go on in.”

I walked in to them having a conversation, but didn’t look at them. I headed straight for the podium. I wouldn’t look until I began, it would keep my nerves down. But I kept overhearing what they were saying.

“Okay, back to the club. We have a membership for a reason, and we never go.” The voice was deep, and ropey. Each word had its own harsh undertone, and drawl.

“Yeah, ‘cause we have been busy.” My back was to them, setting up the boards. The second voice was deep as well, but softer. The kind that could lull you to sleep.

I shuddered at the energy in the room, whoever they were. They were intense. I bent over to get my laptop out, and the talking ceased.

The room was so quiet, I could hear the empty seats. Now, I was nervous. My heart beat into my ears, and I felt my back growing moist with nervous sweats. I kept my face from sweating by standing in front of the fan on the podium.

That was it, everything was set up.

I drew my eyes up, and focused on the two men sitting across from me. My knees shook in my heels, and I was wide eyed like a confused little girl. These weren’t men they were…they were gods. Built by the gods, for the gods, and everything in between.

On the left; I saw a beachy man with light brown hair and gray eyes, that I could feel from here. I say beachy because of his shorts and polo, it was very casual. His tattoo peeked out of his broad, muscular chest. I felt myself wanting to lick…stop.

But next to him was Geek Squad on steroids. He had a similar muscular build, but it was wrapped in a crisp white dress shirt, silk tie, and black dress pants. His hair was much darker, and his eyes a piercing blue.

He said, “Ready?”

Well, now I’m not.

Chapter Three: Jake

I was not built for this. I barely make it through the meetings at work, let alone thirty twenty-somethings who think just because they are about to get a degree, they know everything.

We have done this for years but this was disappointing. I knew I would be taking out my bad mood on the bags later today. I would rather be in the gym. I’m no meat head, but I know how to deal with my stress. Fighting.

I wanted to fight every one of these applicants; verbally, I mean. Most of them knew half of what they were saying, pitched shit we would never do and never have done, and others just waltzed in here like they had it in the bag. I shut them down very quickly. I was just trying to help them in the future. And remind them of their place.

The business world has a lot of fake it until you make it going on, but if you don’t do it right, you just piss everyone off. And I was pissed off.

I needed to spar and fuck. I gave up on dating, so most of my action came from the women at the club Logan and I frequent. It wasn’t ideal, but any woman I came across these days had pursued me because they saw me on Forbes, or knows I have money. Nothing was genuine, so why not get action from the professionals?

Logan hadn’t given up though, but he wasn’t in a relationship either. We both had similar sexual tastes, back in college we found out sharing a woman is a lot more fun than being obligated to do all the work yourself. Tired? Not ready to go again? Just tag someone else in.

Besides, it made for a better rush. I was going to get him in the club whether he liked it or not. I was about to seal the deal when I noticed someone else was in the room.

Not just anyone.

Our next applicant.

Suddenly, I didn’t care what the hell she had to say. I just knew I had to work with this girl. I had to pursue her.

She covered herself up in a suit, but I knew she was hiding a delectable body underneath. That skirt couldn’t hide her hips, especially not when she bent over. Her jacket curved over her breasts, the swells peeking out from underneath her dress shirt. She had her honey brown hair pulled back in a braid. I wanted to grab it and pull her onto me.

It had been years since I got hard in a business meeting. She broke my dry spell. What was her name? I looked on the paper; Madeline Jackson. I took my pen pad and wrote her name on the ‘yes’ side, and slid it over to Logan. He shook his head in annoyance.

He doesn’t always agree with my methods, obviously.

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